


Mark of Cas

by The_gayest_little_angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel Has Stolen Grace, Cutting, Dying Castiel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mark of Cain, Self Harm, Self Loathing, Why am I so mean to my babies?, moc!castiel, moc!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:50:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6397144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_gayest_little_angel/pseuds/The_gayest_little_angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's tearing himself apart under the mark's influence, and it's Cas' time to save the man he loves. Who knows, maybe he'll even tell him so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, babies! ;-;

~"I'm the one who will have to watch you murder the world."~

It echoed through his mind in a seemingly continuous loop.

"Dean, are you alright?"

His mind was eager to offer up every moment he hurt his angel. No, scratch that, not his angel. He had no hold over Cas, the damn feathered son of a bitch just couldn't seem to wrap his head around that.

~"You don't think you deseve to be saved."~

Oh, but he was so wrong. Dean was a monster. He hurts and kills and breaks and laughs about all of it over a nice cold beer. He didn't think he didn't deserve to be saved, he knew he didn't. He thought with a sick and twisted glee of the times the angel had hurt Dean instead.

~"I rebelled for you!" Punch. "I fell for you!" Punch.~

He wishes Naomi could have made him finish the job back in that crypt. It's what he deserved, anyways. They wouldn't be in this situation now if Cas had just ganked him then and there like the monster he is.

"Dean, open the door."

He can't stop hearing them tear through his head.

~"The Dean Winchester I know would never have murdered that kid."~

As clear as day, he can still see it; "Angel of the Lord" Castiel. "I don't understand that reference" Castiel. "Stupid for the right reasons" Castiel. "All that is good and just" Castiel; lying broken and fearful at his feet. 

"Dean, what are you doing?"

Then fists are flying. And he's slamming his head against a table. He sees his own hands throwing his best friend to the ground. His beautiful blue eyes swollen shut. Castiel's grip on his wrist is far too weak

~"Dean... please..."~

He's twisting his arm. He's punching him in the face. He's kicking him in the ribs, and it's blood, Blood, BLOOD!!!

"DEAN, STOP IT!!!"

He's brought out of his trance by a sharp pain on his cheek.

"Dean, look at me... please" 

His vision suddenly clears and he sees the mess he's made of himself. He felt something sharp in his hand. He opened it, letting a jagged and bloody shard of glass fall from his hand. He exhalead sharply as he followed with his eyes the trail of blood he's left down his right forearm, clotting out of the new wound. It's an ugly, sloppy, jagged, angry thing, a crooked round-ish patch of muscle, tissue, and other nastiness where the skin that made up and surrounded the mark used to be.

He slowly brings his eyes up to find the speaker crouched down on the tile in front of him, sapphire eyes widened in concern, confusion, and just a hint of fear.

"C- Cas..." Dean utters.

The angel hardly hesitates to wrap his arms around the shaking hunter sitting on the floor in front of him.

"I'm getting blood all over your stupid trench coat" Dean lets out with a huff of mirthless laughter. He couldn't bring himself to hug his friend, but just let himself be enveloped in his arms.

"My coat can be replaced, Dean," Cas said as he pulled away. "You can not."

He reached for his injured arm, but was stopped by Dean grabbing his wrist.

"You're already low on juice, man. Save it." Dean protested.

Cas gives him a warning glare and Dean moved his hand with slumping shoulders.

As the skin mended over the wound Dean took a shocked and hopeful breath as the tanned flesh he hasn't seen in months surfaces, only to let it out with a groan when the mark covered it once more throbbing angrily at its recent removal.

"Dammit." Dean cursed under his breath.

"We will find you a cure, Dean. Don't lose hope."


	2. Temper, temper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY FINISHED A NEW CHAPTER (I know, we're all shocked)

"Dean? What are you doing?" 

Sam watched his older brother with a sense of fear and trepidation while Dean picked up the sharp blade and stared at it with a disturbing fascination. His cold blank eyes turned towards him as he stroked it's surface.

"Dean?"

He stood up slowly, mechanically, facing his little brother. Sam backed away, watching the blade warily.

Before he could blink Dean has him pinned against the wall, grabbing his throat, and starting to squeeze, while holding the knife threateningly towards Sam's chest.

"Dean, let him go."

Dean's eyes cleared and finally could see what he was doing. He looked back and forth between his angel and his brother. 

Eyes widened in horror, he dropped the blade. Letting his brother go, and hyperventilating, he skittered backwards, terrified of what he could have done.

"I'm so- Sam, I'm- oh my Go-"

Castiel interrupted him with two fingers his forehead, knocking him out.

Cas shot Sam a sympathetic look.

"Are you alright?"

Sam nodded and moved over to look at his brother.

"What are we gonna do, Cas?"

"I don't know, Sam. I truly don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me, guys, I'm trying to write more, I'm just in a bit of a block

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, I'm gonna update this one!


End file.
